My Man!
by Mione3
Summary: Things get a little interesting when revealing clothing is worn to a History of Magic class. Lets just say that jealousy may not be such a bad thing!


I do not own Harry Potter or the Characters, though the plot line is my own. The song Homewrecker is by Gretchen Wilson. I know the song doesn't follow the story exactly but I still think it goes fairly well.

Please Read and Review…No flames! But constructive criticism is always accepted!

My Man!

Even though Hermione loved her classes History of Magic had a tendency to get under her skin, if only slightly. Usually she would take notes continually to keep herself from falling asleep but today was different. As soon as Lavender had walked into the room she knew the day could only get worse. Every pair of eyes, male eyes to be more specific, bolted her direction. An uneasy feeling began to creep its way into Hermione's stomach and she wasn't sure if her measly lunch would remain there much longer. Dealing with Trolls, three-headed dogs, snakes, dementors, or Lord Voldemort himself she could handle, but not this. In one entrance, one glance, she threatened to undo everything Hermione had been working towards for the last three years, well technically since starting at Hogwarts.

_Well, you're a real hot cookie with a new hair-do,  
Your high heeled boots and your credit card.  
Long legs and a mini skirt,  
Yeah you know what works and you work it hard.  
You smile like such a lady, innocent and sweet.  
You drive the men folk crazy but any girl can see,_

The one guy she wanted to notice her and finally take interest was gaping uncontrollably at Lavender. His eyes scanned her up and down stopping on the hem of her black skirt, if it could even be called that since it barely concealed the part of her body a skirt is designed to cover. Hermione could not believe that she could walk in the shoes she was wearing. They easily made her 3 inches taller, not that she needed the height boost since she was already one of the tallest girls at Hogwarts.

As Lavender slowly descended the stairs the eyes followed her and when she took her seat she flipped her perfectly straight black hair, cocking her head to the side in the process. She looked at the young man seated beside Hermione, smiled sweetly and winked. Hermione's blood boiled but her heart froze when his mouth finally closed, lips curved into his trademark grin and he winked back.

Hermione sadly looked down at her own clothes. A sensible pair of shoes for walking around the castle, a skirt that ended at her knees and did nothing for her figure and a blouse that had seen better days since the cuffs were covered in ink stains. She touched her hair, the mess of curls that a brush could be lost in and felt her tears well up behind her lids. Forcing them back, she wasn't about to cry, at least not here. In her mind there was no way she could possibly compete with that, but she would not give up with out a fight. Second best had never been part of her vocabulary.

_You're just a homewrecker,  
I know what you're doin'.  
You think you're gonna ruin,  
What I got but you're not.  
Yeah, you little go-getter  
I'll teach you a lesson,  
If you get to messin' with my man,  
You don't stand a chance.  
No, you're just a homewrecker._

Everyone knew how she felt about him and Lavender was supposed to be one of her friends. Sure, she had never said it out loud but it was obvious. The only person who couldn't tell was Ron himself. Most people figured it out after the Yule Ball during their fourth year when word got around about her little outburst to him in the common room. Hermione could not understand why Lavender would be so cruel. There were plenty of other guys in the school to go after with that outfit and flirtatious attitude, why did it have to be Ron?

When class finally ended, unfortunately having been double History, lunch was just starting. Hermione had not written one single word down on her paper and since she had been watching Ron the whole time she knew he had not either. Not that that really mattered at the moment, the reason was more the issue. He had been staring at the back of Lavender's head for the entire class. She watched helplessly as Lavender walked seductively up the stairs, pausing at their row where she "accidentally" dropped her book.

"Oops," she whispered, "clumsy me." With that she began to bend in order to pick up the book.

"W-w-wait," Ron stuttered, "I'll get that for you."

When he had retrieved the book from the floor he held it in his hands with no movement to give it back to her. Lavender smiled again, "Thank you, Ronald," gave him a peck on the cheek, "Such a gentleman," and placed the rest of her things into his arms. Hermione watched the blush encompass his neck, face and ears as Lavender slid her arm through his and they began to walk off to the Great Hall together. If it were possible, steam would have been flowing from her ears and nostrils.

Harry gently tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped a mile high whipping around and simultaneously extracting her wand from her pocket. She pointed it at the raven-haired boy, her best friend, who was currently struggling for words.

"If you so much as say anything resembling that being nice, appropriate or about time I will hex you into the next century," she grumbled in a voice very different from the usual.

Harry raised his hands up in surrender, taking a step backwards, "I wasn't going to say anything of the kind." When she scrunched her eyes up even more he continued, "I swear! I was just going to say that you better do something if you don't want him to end up with Lavender."

"And what, might I ask, is there for me to do?" she wheezed.

Harry rolled his eyes, "I don't know, Hermione," and sighed. "But you're the smartest witch Hogwarts has seen in many years, I'm sure you'll think of something." Then he turned, exited the row at the opposite end, scurrying up the stairs and out the door.

Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath and calm herself down. This would take some thought and she wasn't about to go to lunch and have her brain submerged under water again. Instead, she decided, she would go back to Gryffindor Tower, cool down and make a plan that would set everything right.

_I'm sure you waited for a long, long time,  
To find a man like mine but honey you're too late.  
So before you go and make your move  
Maybe me and you should get a few things straight.  
There's two ways we can do this, I'll let you decide.  
You can take it somewhere else or we can take it outside. _

This was it. She had spent the entire afternoon locked in her room missing Ancient Runes, Charms and dinner. Ginny had checked in on her a few minutes ago and was informed that most of the younger kids had gone up to their rooms while the sixth and seventh years overtook the common room. Ron was there of course, sitting with Lavender in the chairs by the windows. Dean and Seamus were playing a game of exploding snap with a couple sixth years. Neville and Parvati were studying Herbology and Harry was reading quietly on a chair by the fire. The scene was set and everything was perfect, except her nerves. The more she thought about this the more uneasy she became. Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, gave herself one more look in the mirror and strode quickly out the door and down the stairs, determination in every step.

It was History of Magic all over again only this time the eyes were trained on her and not Lavender. She didn't even dare a look at the windows and kept focusing on her destination. There were catcalls coming from her right (that sounded suspiciously like Ginny) and a whistle from the portrait hole where Colin Creevey had just stepped through. She tried her best to quash the butterflies that were filling her stomach and to quiet the pounding of her heart she was sure could be heard in Australia.

When she finally stopped she smiled sweetly at the young man before her. Hermione's hands were shaking slightly with her nervousness but she held out her left one to him, "Go on a walk with me, Harry?" she asked politely.

Harry gaped and mouthed like a fish out of water. This could not be Hermione. She was all done up like she was in a photo shoot. Her hair was perfectly straight and looked extremely soft and a lot longer that usual. Her makeup was light but accentuated her pretty brown eyes. The sundress she wore was simple in design, white with yellow daisies, spaghetti straps and ended mid thigh. Her white sandals made a person notice her tiny feet and nice legs. Then it dawned on him the reasoning behind this little encounter and he smiled back at her. "I'd love to, Hermione," he said, winking as he took her hand and allowed her to help him to his feet. "You look beautiful."

She blushed at his comment and was thankful that he understood what was happening. As they exited the portrait hole, Harry pushing Colin out of the way, she could have sworn she heard something crash and as the fat lady swung shut a muffled 'bloody hell' echoed down the hallway.

_You little homewrecker,  
I know what you're doin'.  
You think you're gonna ruin,  
What I got but you're not.  
Yeah, you little go-getter  
I'll teach you a lesson,  
If you get to messin' with my man,  
You don't stand a chance.  
No, you're just a homewrecker._

Two hours later, well past curfew, Harry and Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower. The fat lady tutted at being awoken and scolded their time of return but upon being given the password swung open to allow them entrance. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they entered the dimly lit common room to keep up appearances and found only a solitary person to still be there.

Seated on the couch in front of the dieing fire was Ron Weasley. Still dressed in his khaki pants and white button up shirt, minus the tie, he looked livid. The little flame there was flashed menacingly in his eyes as they stared at the clasped hands of his two best friends. He rose quickly to his feet and in three paces was uncomfortable close to them. "What," he said boring holes into Harry's eyes, "is the meaning of this?" gesturing to their hands.

Harry puffed out his chest taking a deep breath and said calmly, "I have no idea what you're talking about?" He gave Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze for reassurance.

Hermione watched as Ron's eyes grew twice their size. "Don't—don't know what I'm talking about?" he huffed. "This," he said while gesturing to their hands again. "This! The two of you. How could you do this to me, Harry? I thought we were friends! You know how I feel about her! You never once told me you thought of her like that. How could you?" The volume of his voice was rising with every word he spoke but the feelings behind them remained the same and were unmistakable.

Hermione dropped Harry's hand and took a step towards Ron who, for the first time it seemed, realized that she was actually there. Having a bout of bravery she spoke, "How do you feel about me, Ron?" She looked up into his eyes pleading with him to answer truthfully but when he continued to stand there like a statue she continued. "You said that Harry knows how you feel about me and that he never felt that way. Please, Ron, tell me the truth." She reached out and took his hand in hers giving it a squeeze.

The blush that Hermione had seen overtake his face earlier was reoccurring. She sensed more than heard Harry retreating to the stairs and was grateful for his help but focused all her attention on the task at hand, getting Ron to admit his feelings. He was still unmoving and her courage did not waver so she delved deeper. "Look, Ron, there is nothing between Harry and I, we are just good friends." Her free hand came up to twirl a piece of her hair in a nervous gesture. "I am not interested in Harry as more than a friend."

Finally Ron found his voice, "Than why did you ask him to go on a walk with you? Why were you gone for two hours? And why were you holding hands?" he bellowed, yet he did not remove his hand from grasp.

She sighed and bowed her head, "I just wanted to make someone jealous; I wanted him to finally notice me." It was soft but clear.

"Who?" he nearly growled. "Dean? Seamus? Not Neville?"

Hermione let out a giggle, "No, no, none of them." She looked up again. "You still don't see it, do you?"

Confusion was written all over his face. "See what?"

She took a deep breath, let go of his hand and turned away. There was no way she could watch him as she finally revealed her feelings. At least if he rejected her he wouldn't see her cry and she could make a hasty retreat up the girls' staircase. Her confidence was wavering as was her belief that he was attracted to her. "It's you, Ron. It has always been you. I thought that if I changed my hair, wore more attractive clothing and pretended to be interested in Harry you might finally be interested in me. But I was wrong." She paused and wiped a runaway tear from her face, thankful that it was out of the view of Ron. "I was jealous of Lavender and scared that I'd lose you to her. But I'm not going to kid myself anymore. You like her and not me and there could never be a competition between the two of us for your heart."

There was a long pause before Ron finally spoke, "Your right, Hermione." Those three little words tightened a clamp on Hermione's heart. "You were wrong to think that changing you hair or your clothes would make me interested in you. I do like her and not you and there could never be a competition between you and Lavender for my heart."

He said what she feared but in the back of her mind didn't think he would ever say. At least, she thought he would let her down easy. She let out a strangled sob as the tears poured unchecked from her eyes. Burying her face in her hands she tried to hide her hurt from the world knowing it was a fruitless task. With the little dignity she had left she made for the stairs but a hand on her arm stopped her.

She tried to rip her arm away from him but all those years playing quidditch had made him a great deal stronger than her. "Let me finish," he said softly and after a few more attempts at freedom she finally gave in.

"First off, the reason you were wrong to think that changing your hair or your clothes would make me interested in you is because I like those things about you. Your curly brown hair is unique and simply Hermione while your clothing makes it clear that you find other things besides your looks important and I respect that." He paused as he said a spell causing her hair to turn back to normal. She could feel him run his fingers through the curls.

"I do like Lavender, she is a nice girl but I'm not interested in her as anything more than that. And it's true that I don't like you, I'm well beyond that now. I love you, Hermione, and not in a brotherly or friendly sort of way." Her breath was beginning to become ragged. Never in her wildest dreams did Ron Weasley tell her he loved her first. But this wasn't a dream, this was reality and it was ten times better.

He gently spun her around to face him and ran his thumb softly over her cheek. "The reason there could never be a competition between you and Lavender for my heart is that you stole my heart long ago."

She was once again crying but this time she wasn't sad, these were tears of joy. As his lips came down on her own all she could think was, 'This is the best day of my life.'

_Now, honey, I'm a Christian,  
But if you keep it up,  
I'm gonna go to kickin' your pretty little butt.  
Is that clear enough?_

After the Gryffindor/Slytherin quidditch match a few days later Hermione went down to the lawn to wait for Ron to congratulate him on their victory. When she arrived she saw red. There was Ron, still in his uniform with Lavender hanging onto his arm. She couldn't hear what was being said but the body language that Lavender was using was instantly recognizable. When she began leaning into Ron, Hermione made a made dash for the pair. Their lips touched a few seconds before Hermione's hand clasped over Lavender's arm yanking her away from her Beau. Lavender spun around and nearly fell due to the force of the pull and the high heeled shoes she was wearing.

"I am going to warn you once, you stay away from Ron!" Hermione bellowed. A crowd was beginning to appear, wondering what was going on.

Lavender put her hands on her hips. "And who do you think you are? I can see who I want and it so happens that I am interested in Ron."

"Ron, is MY boyfriend, not yours," Hermione protested.

"After that kiss I should think not," Lavender said haughtily. "Right, Ron?"

Hermione's face paled as she slowly turned her gaze to Ron. He was looking directly at her and her stomach flipped knowing that the whole school would be watching him break up with her. He took a step towards her and closed his arms around her. "I love you, Hermione, and that kiss meant nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?" Lavender yelled. "You still want to stay with this book-worm when you have the chance to date me?"

Ron pulled away from Hermione and squared himself with Lavender. "If you still want to be friends you better watch what you say about my girlfriend."

Lavender huffed and rolled her eyes. "Why would I want to be friends with a no good, freckle-faced, pauper like…AHHHHH!"

Lavender's diatribe was cut short by Hermione's right fist. She slugged her right in the nose, shaking her hand violently afterwards. Quickly she grabbed Ron's arm with her good hand and drug him away from the scene, pushing cheering students out of her way in the process. His eyes kept traveling between the two girls as he gaped uncontrollably.

Hermione smiled despite the pain in hand since she knew Lavender would never bother her again. Ron stopped their getaway and hugged her again. This time as his lips came down on her own all she could think was, 'Take that, Lavender!'

_Yeah, you little homewrecker,  
I know what you're doin'.  
You think you're gonna ruin,  
What I got but you're not.  
Yeah, you little go-getter  
I'll teach you a lesson,  
If you get to messin' with my man,  
You don't stand a chance.  
No, you're just a homewrecker.  
Yeah, you're just a homewrecker.  
Homewrecker. _


End file.
